


and when i woke

by questionably_fortunate_bamboo



Series: jonsa season 7 summer challenge [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge, Jonsa Summer Challenge, not my finest piece but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionably_fortunate_bamboo/pseuds/questionably_fortunate_bamboo
Summary: Their dreams are good and bad, but they have learned to survive.(written for day five of the jonsa s7 summer challenge - dreams)





	and when i woke

**Author's Note:**

> yeahhhh so it's kinda short, sorry. just ignore this and read something else that i've written. agh.

“Good morning, my love.” **  
**

Sansa sighs and nuzzles her head into the crook of Jon’s neck. Their naked bodies are still tangled together in a protective knot. Her dress from the previous night is on the floor in the doorway, discarded by hands too eager to wait.

“Good morning, Jon,” she says. He shifts his head to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Did you dream of something sweet last night?” he asks. Sansa didn’t dream of anything at all, but that really doesn’t make for romantic prose.

“Yes- I dreamt of lemon cakes,” she says, laughing softly like tiny bells.

“I should’ve known. I’ll have to share my lady wife’s attentions with sweets, it would seem.” Jon chuckles, deep and quiet in his throat.

She runs her fingers across his jawline and the stubbly hairs of his beard. The nights are theirs to be just Sansa and Jon, and in the day they’ll be king and queen. The small window is still dark. For now, they’ll have their peace, but it isn’t always like this.

Jon’s beautiful head is full of nightmares that she can’t possibly fathom. He wakes in a cold sweat, gripping the sheets and screaming out to save a man who’s already dead.

“Tell me,” Sansa insists, never allowing him to drown in the sea of his past.

“I was fighting, it was dark, I was scared,” he says. “And they died because of me.” Tears streak down his face- he’s always silent when he cries.

“It’s not real, love. I’m right here with you.” She holds him close and kisses his tears away.

No one hates Jon more than he hates himself.

Sansa has her own nightmares. Jon has to shake her awake and hold her still.

“He’s not here,” he promises her. “I love you, Sansa.”

Her nails dig into his skin, and her eyes burn with pain and anger. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him.”

“You already did,” says Jon.

And sometimes their dreams are as unpredictable as life itself. When they close their eyes, they see wolves running through the Godswood and dragons burning a trail of fire through the sky. They see oceans as blue as sapphires and deserts as bright as amber. They see worlds made of clouds. Their minds wander here and there and far beyond.

“Last night, I dreamt of a feast. The only food was blackberry jam,” Sansa says when they’re at breakfast.

“Was I in it?” asks Arya.

“No. It was just me and a hundred barrels of blackberry jam.”

“I wonder what that means,” Jon muses, biting off a piece of his roll. “Got a secret love for blackberries, Sansa?”

Bran sighs. “And I thought I was the one with strange dreams.”

The sweetest dream, however, is the one that Sansa lives every day. The one where she is at home, safe and loved. It tastes too good to be real.

“What did you dream of?” Jon asks one morning, as they savor each other’s presence like water after a drought.

“Us,” she says.

“Something good, I hope?”

She nods. “Always good.”

Her dreams of a perfect future are dead and buried, but her imperfect life is more precious than gold.


End file.
